


On a Mission

by Lunakitty



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunakitty/pseuds/Lunakitty
Summary: Sansa Stark is on a mission tonight. She will either confess her love and get her man....or forever hold her peace. Probably. Either way, it's going down for real.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 106





	On a Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts), [vivilove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/gifts), [Janina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/gifts).



> Long time lurker, first time writer.  
> Gifting to my personal favorite Jonsa writers who have  
> made life a bit more sparkly for their prose.  
> I own nothing and any mistakes are my bad.  
> I have so enjoyed being a Jonsa lurker.  
> I hope this isn't complete shit.  
> I had fun writing it FWIW.  
> Thanks for giving it a chance.

Sansa Stark downed the last of her glass of wine as she regarded her reflection in the mirror.

Tonight was going to be a monumental night in her young life.  
Tonight she would either be united with the love of her life or spend the next 50 years or more in abject humiliation until one of them dies. Or get the drunkest she's ever been. She's not sure which yet. 

As she started to apply another gratuitous layer of lip gloss, her stomach clenched in exhilarated dread as she contemplated how she got here.  
Sansa was a romantic. She believed in true love, in soul mates. She loved fairy tales and happy endings. 

From the day she turned sixteen (and was finally allowed to go on dates), she only had eyes for one man. And that man was her brother Robb’s best friend, Jon Snow.  
Jon first came to the Stark house for a play date when the boys were seven. They had absolutely no use for three year old Sansa at that time but as the years passed and more Starklings arrived, Jon became part of their pack. And more importantly, at least to her, Sansa's friend. 

Sansa appreciated Jon’s quiet, contemplative personality, so similar to her own. She loved his thoughtfulness and how polite he was.  
And frankly, he was absurdly sexy with those dark eyes, curls for days, pouty lips and those abs.  
Dear gods those abs.  
Sansa was positive her personal sexual awakening occurred the first time she saw Jon stripping out of his shirt at the pool when she was old enough to find boys interesting instead of disgusting. 

So many times over the past six years she felt Jon’s eyes on her before she turned just in time to see his gaze guiltily skitter away from her.  
So intrigued was she by the possibility that her attraction was mutual, that she spent the majority of one summer debuting an impressive array of increasingly smaller swimsuits (much to her father’s agitation and sibling’s eye rolling.) 

Unfortunately that was also the summer her sister Arya figured out exactly what Sansa was up to with her bikini shenanigans.  
“You are an idiot,” Arya proclaimed, smacking the wide brim of Sansa’s sun hat down over her eyes.  
Sansa stretches languidly, warm from the summer sun as she asked “What are you on about now, Ayra?”  
“You. Like. Jon. That’s why you’ve been swanning around in those bikinis all summer, you giant perv!”  
Sansa sat bolt upright, eyes wide, cheeks blazing red. In her best stern big sister voice she growls “First of all, that is an outrageous lie. How absolutely dare you? Secondly, shut up. And thirdly….oh gods, please don’t tell anyone. Especially not Robb! No, especially do not tell Jon. Oh gods.”  
Arya solemnly eyes her sister for a moment before bursting into cackles.  
Sansa watches Arya roll back and forth on the ground, howling in laughter for several very long, humiliating minutes.  
Finally, Arya sits up and wipes her eyes. Between snorts and chortles of laughter she manages to wheeze out “Well, I think it’s disgusting. But if a priss pants like you can fancy Stark Movie Night’s undefeated Longest Popcorn Fart champion…well, I guess there’s hope for the rest of us.”  
“Thanks,” Sansa says dryly as Arya pats her on the head and walks off whistling. 

Sansa thinks it is pretty amazing that she does still consider Jon attractive after walking in on that debacle. 

Despite her efforts during the summer of bikini shenanigans Jon treated her exactly the same as he always had.  
Dammit. 

Over the next fews years Jon would often come pick her and her girlfriends up from parties if they even only had one drink.  
He held her while she cried over all manner of high school drama.  
He even punched her prom date Joff in the face after learning Joff tore Sansa’s dress trying to grope her.

All these years Sansa held out hope that the attraction she felt for Jon was mutual. 

She had hoped he was waiting for her to turn sixteen.  
She remembers giddily twirling alone in her bedroom the night of her birthday thinking maybe now Jon would ask her out.  
But alas, Jon never wavered in how her treated her though. He was as polite and brotherly as ever. It was super depressing.

Soon enough Jon was off for basic training at The Wall then a three year stint in the army. And then Sansa herself was off to college. 

Jon had a few girlfriends here and there. (Sansa still vividly remembers the gods awful hangover she had the day after Ygritte came home with Jon for Thanksgiving.) 

Sansa had a few boyfriends. Honestly, they were mostly duds. She did truly care for Dickon Tarly. His personality reminded her of Jon. And those abs.  
Dear gods, Dickon’s abs.  
But Dickon, as perfect as he seemed, could not compete with her ages long yearning for Jon Snow.  
Now she was back home in Winterfell. And so was Jon. It was the first time in six years they had lived in the same place at the same time. And Sansa, quite frankly, was tired of jack shitting around. 

Tonight was the night. She was going to tell Jon how she felt. She was on a mission. 

Everyone was going to The Wolf’s Den, the newest bar in town being managed by Jon’s army friend Tormund.  
Sansa no longer had many occasions to dress up with managing a flower shop, but tonight she was going for it.  
If Jon Snow didn’t make a move tonight, she would accept defeat gracefully. At least in public. 

She shook herself out of her daze and brushed her hair out one last time before heading out.  
Her dress was electric blue, skin tight and almost (but not quite) indecently short. (Jon loves her in blue.) Her heels were four inches of leg showcasing glory. (Jon sneaks a lot of looks at her legs when he thinks she doesn’t notice. She does notice.) Her hair was a curtain of shiny auburn waves down her back. (Just the way Jon likes it. She even caught him sniffing her hair once.) 

Her plan was to stalk into the bar, head held high, shoulders back, eyes smoldering. 

She would somehow magically zero in on Jon. He would be practically compelled to shove his way across the bar to her and they would kiss. In front of the gods and everybody. And it would be a soul shaking, earth moving, life defining kiss. And if the entire bar burst into applause, that was fine too. 

That is not how it happened.

When she entered the bar, she first had to wade through a throng of boisterous frat boys from Winterfell U.  
Upon hearing the first wolf whistle from the bar area, Sansa pointedly walked in the direction of the tables.  
Fortunately she saw her brother Robb laying claim to one of the booths in the back. 

“Hello Sansa,” he greeted. “It appears you forgot the bottom half of your dress at home.”  
“Do shut up, big brother. I’m here for sexual carnage, not high tea. But thank you for your fatherly concern, you huge nerd” she replied coolly, looking around the bar, yanking down her dress as nonchalantly as possible.  
Robb gives her his best, brightest smile and says “Do you want to sit? Hopefully with your legs firmly under the table.”  
Feeling the eyeroll intended for her brother down to her toes, Sansa puts on her best bored voice and asks where Jon was.  
Robb eyes her speculatively and replies “He’s at the bar getting our drinks. If you hurry I’m sure you could sucker him into buying yours too. Especially wearing that shirt masquerading as a dress.”  
Sansa flashes her best “my hero” eyes at Robb and takes off toward the bar. 

This really was it. She was doing this. She was actually going to do this.  
The butterflies in her belly felt more like kangaroos but she had her sexy walk down. She had practiced her smolder in the mirror all afternoon.  
She believed she just needed to give Jon a chance to see her as a woman in her own right. A vibrant, sexy, full grown woman and not just Robb’s little sister.  
As she approached the bar, she spotted Jon.  
She heard Jon laughing. She then saw he was laughing at something a very pretty, very petite brunette woman with enormous breasts was saying. They were leaned into each other and one of those enormous breasts was currently touching Jon’s arm.  
What. The. Fuck.  
No, no,no,no,no. NO!

Just as Sansa made the sharpest right turn of her life, Jon looked up just in time to see Sansa skid to a stop, look at him oddly and duck off into the hallway by the restrooms.  
That was weird.  
She looked right at him. And gods she looked gorgeous. Heart achingly hot.  
He wondered if she was okay.  
He should go check on her. (And sneak peeks at those long, sexy legs.)  
He shook himself and tuned back into the conversation with the brunette. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. Hey Tor! I’ll be back for the drinks” Jon said as he rushed away from the bar.  
“It’s Pammy,” the brunette said sourly to Jon’s back. 

Jon walks into the narrow hallway to see Sansa leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. He smiles softly remembering the day he taught her to do that when she was upset.  
“Sansa,” he says softly, touching her arm.  
Her eyes pop open and a flush begins to bloom over her cheeks. She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her. She’s always been it for him. The One since he started to notice girls were not so gross. She is warm, smart, kind, generous and gorgeous.  
And she’s his best friend’s little sister. Dammit.  
Sansa stares at him for a few seconds before she explodes “I can’t take this anymore! Not one more minute! I am crazy in love with you. I have been for years. And we’re finally both back here. And I’m a grown woman. I am not Robb’s little sister. I am my own woman. And I put this dress on and I did my hair the way you like it and I have on these gods awful shoes to show off my legs. For you! All for you! And then I see you with some brunette Dolly Parton over there laughing like a hyena and I can’t…I can’t…mmmppphhh!”  
Her speech is cut off by Jon’s mouth on her mouth. She feels his lips moving on hers. She feels his tongue licking into her mouth and his hands on her waist. She feels him walking her back until she gently collides with the wall. She hears him moan and pull her body closer to his.  
And it hits her.  
Jon Snow is kissing Sansa Stark.  
Not Robb’s best friend and Robb’s little sister.  
Jon and Sansa.  
Kissing.  
And it’s hot.  
She feels Jon’s hands begin to rub up along her sides and up into her hair. She feels her back arch and a little moan escapes her throat.  
Oh wow. He’s a really good kisser.  
She is definitely in trouble. The really, really good, dirty kind of trouble.  
He steps back, sliding his hands from her hair back to her waist. His eyes are intense, pupils blown, dark, wide and beautiful.  
Just as he opens his mouth to speak (his beautiful, pouty, sexy mouth), Arya slams open the bathroom door. 

Arya looks them over, shrugs and says “About fucking time. Everybody already knows except you two idiots, apparently. Carry on,” as she pushes past them.

Sansa and Jon break into breathy chuckles.  
After a few moments of staring at each other with the dopiest grins in the history of ever on their faces, Jon laces his fingers with hers and asks “Yeah?”  
Sansa smiles at him and replies “Oh yeah.”  
Mission accomplished.


End file.
